


Red, White, and You

by nikonic



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Lyric Driven, Song Lyrics, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-22
Updated: 2016-04-22
Packaged: 2018-06-03 17:19:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6619525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nikonic/pseuds/nikonic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Bobbi gets a little homesick, Daisy knows just how to cheer her up.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Red, White, and You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AgentSkyeMorse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentSkyeMorse/gifts).



> AgentSkyeMorse asked. Thus AgentSkyeMorse receives. My lovely friend requested something fluffy revolving my favorite leading ladies and the song 'Red, White, and You' by Steven Tyler. Seriously, this is tooth-rotting fluff. If you get cavities, it's not my fault. 
> 
> As always, I own nothing.

It's a beautiful night- clear skies, crisp air, twinkling stars. Bobbi lifts the bottle to her lips purposefully, taking a long sip of the cold beer. As great as this night is, she muses, it awakens a longing for scenery from a lifetime ago. That homesick feeling churns in her gut, as she remembers dancing at dusk on the toes of her daddy's boots with fireflies twinkling in the distance and something with a twangy guitar on the radio.

 

"Hey. I thought I might find you up here." A hand is warm on the blonde's shoulder, a thumb gently rubbing at the bare skin. Daisy perches on the ledge next to her girlfriend, swiping the beer bottle casually to take a sip. "You okay, Bob?"

 

With a soft sigh, the older woman pillows her head on Daisy's shoulder, relishing in the comforting presence of her love. "Yeah. I'm good. Just a little homesick, you know." Daisy doesn't quite understand that feeling, but that's not the point. This isn't about her and her sordid, sad tale. It's about Bobbi and the woman's love of her home and family, so Daisy nods, offering a warm kiss as a condolence.

 

"We should go." Bobbi straightens slowly. "To Ohio, I meant. We should go. You can show me around, do the whole meet-the-folks thing. Or not, you know. Your choice. But if you want company, we could go," Daisy offers. Their fingers intertwine together like puzzles pieces completing a picture, and Daisy presses a kiss to the back of Bobbi's hand tenderly. "Just a thought."

 

The blonde chuckles softly, heart swelling with love for this woman. "Show you around Ohio? Dais, it's Ohio. There's nothing to see. It goes like this... Field, field, field... Oh what's that? More field. The grand tour would take all of ten minutes. You can see my tiny town from all four sides of its one stop sign."

 

"That sounds like the adventure I've been needing," Daisy snarks back. "Getting shot at on a daily basis and fighting zombie Ward- you know, that just doesn't fit my adrenalin junkie needs. But you sold me on that stop sign. Now I just have to see it." Bobbi's face lights up with a smile. "But really, we should go. And until then, we can bring a little of the country to you. C'mon, I got an idea." Daisy pulls Bobbi to her feet. "Dance with me."

 

A pink blush flushes Bobbi's cheeks, somehow shy in this intimate context. "There's no music, you dork. And we're on the roof of a top-secret government facility. This isn't exactly the best place for dancing." Despite her verbal objections, she melts into Daisy's hold easily, ducking her head with a small smile. "This is ridiculous," Bobbi laughs as they sway to the silence of the night. “You’re ridiculous.”

 

“But I’m your ridiculous. Now shut up, and let me work.” In a smooth voice, Daisy starts to sing. "I ran out, nothing else matters- just you and me and the Georgia night. Look around 'cause it don't get any better. Have you ever felt so alright? Let's dance. Take it slow, Tom Petty on the radio. When we're singing about American Girls like you, when I look in your eyes all I want to do..." The laughter that bubbles up in Bobbi’s chest is carefree and innocent. It's the sound of someone completely at peace, at the mercy of the moment.

 

"I can't believe you know this song!"

 

"Seriously? Bobbi, it's the top third played song on your iPod. Someone could wipe my memory, and I'd still know every word. Now stop interrupting me. We're just getting to the chorus," Daisy chides playfully while maintaining their rhythm. “Uh… maybe the actual song would be better. I'm not sure I can sing about falling into your yum yum seriously without cracking up and ruining the moment, so we'll let Steven Tyler run with it." Her hand slips into Bobbi’s back pocket to retrieve the blonde’s phone. It’s a quick few swipes until the country rock song sings loudly disrupting the silence of the night.

 

_I ran out, nothing else matters. You and me and the Georgia night. Look around ‘cause it don’t get any better. Have you ever felt so alright? Let’s dance. Take it slow, Tom Petty on the radio. When we’re singing about American Girls like you, when I look in your eyes, all I wanna do is bang bang baby like the 4th of July. A lightning strike in the midnight sky. Don’t give a damn about the summertime blues. All I need is red, white, and you. Can’t let those colors fade; tell me you’re gonna stay. American girls making dreams come true. All I need is red, white, and you._

 

The homesickness and loneliness is long gone, and Bobbi basks in the moment, dancing on the roof top to her favorite song with her favorite person, heart filled to the brink with love and warmth. She pulls Daisy closer with a happy laugh as they stumble over each other’s feet on the uneven texture. Her hands sneak into Daisy’s back pockets to palm the inhuman’s ass. In return, Daisy’s fingers play at the stray curls at the nape of Bobbi’s neck. Bobbi knows that this is, without a doubt, what it feels like to be in love.

 

_You pulling me a little bit closer, heart beating like a big bass drum, we spinning on a roller coaster, a ‘Free Fallin’into your yum yum. All the bad girls rocking those cut off jeans, and good old boys driving Big Machines. And you can kiss my ass, can’t help but say, it’s good to be ‘Born in the USA’. Bang bang baby like the 4th of July. A lightning strike in the midnight sky. Don’t give a damn about the summertime blues. All I need is red, white, and you. Can’t let those colors fade; tell me you’re gonna stay. American girls making dreams come true. All I need is red, white, and you._

 

“I have a very serious question,” Daisy announces looking up at Bobbi, and the older woman’s eyebrows arch in concern. “When we go to Ohio, are you going to be one of those bad girls rocking those cut off jeans?” If Bobbi rolled her beautiful blue eyes any harder, they’d likely pop straight out of her skull. The blonde doesn’t justify that nonsense with a verbal response; instead she leans down and captures Daisy’s lips with her own. It’s the kind of kiss that makes Daisy’s toes curl and her stomach do flips. Bobbi’s tongue stroking the roof of Daisy’s mouth is enough to knock them both off the rhythm of the song; not that either minds too much.

 

The song repeats without notice, Steven Tyler crooning in the background of their make-out session in the dark. It’s the large metal door off to the side creaking open that catches their attention, and Coulson simply shakes his head, trying to ignore the kiss-reddened lips and arousal-flushed faces of his agents. “Do you understand the concept of a secret base, ladies?” The women have the decency to stop kissing at the very least. Daisy chuckles lightly. “The goal is to not let people know we’re here. Do you know how we do that? By not playing loud music at 2 in the morning from the rooftop of said secret base like you’re serenading the worlds’ global terrorists to our location. Got it?”

 

“Yes sir,” Bobbi confirms though her tone isn’t strictly professional, simply appeasing. “It won’t happen again.” With one hand still tucked in Daisy’s back pocket, she reaches for the forgotten beer bottle and leads Daisy towards the door.

 

“Also,” he groans, following them back inside. “I bought you a bigger bed under the impression that you would stop fornicating in public places. All of which are things I don’t want to think about. So please, for the love of all that is good, get a room and stop being so damn cute. All I need is red, white, and you. Sheesh. It’s so sweet that it makes my teeth hurt. Go to bed, and for God’s sakes, do not ever tell me what happens there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think! I'm always open to constructive criticism, praise and love, or ideas. Really whatever floats your boat. I appreciate you taking the time to read!


End file.
